


What A Nest Is For

by ReoPlusOne



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReoPlusOne/pseuds/ReoPlusOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Al and Arthur are ready to have a baby -- as long as one of them doesn't kill the other first.  USUK, omegaverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Nest Is For

Beep… beep.  Beep… beep. **  
**

The sound of his own heart rate on a monitor.  It was rhythmic and simple and easy to ignore until he wasn’t any more -- then it was _impossible_ to ignore.  As Arthur recalled, he’d wondered before what it might be like to hear all the noises of your own body beating and thrumming at once via a chorus of machines; but he never thought it would be so annoying.

Alfred had spent days beforehand taking apart the hospital room and reorganizing it at Arthur’s command.  Those overachieving ancestors of his who managed to get swollen hippo feet and build a birthing nest all by themselves, well -- they had never seen hippo feet like Arthur’s.  And Alfred wasn’t bad at taking orders, either, even if he was a bit of an idiot and he had to play sword with every last foam noodle Arthur had bought to line and raise the sides of his soft, pillowy oasis.

He was the particular sort of idiot who couldn’t fathom what the difference between a mating nest and a birthing nest could be.  He was an alpha; and that sort of idiot was the worst.

“It has to have a cover over the top,” Arthur had muttered, offering a thick sheet.  Alfred furrowed his brow, running his hands over the silk and testing its feeling between his hands.

“Why?”

“Because, it’s --” … Because mating was passionate and loud and everyone was supposed to see it.  Because mating left bite marks for that very purpose.  Because when Alfred had bred him and created all this mess he’d yelled out God’s name into the cold night air and hadn’t cared enough to quiet himself, and for once Arthur had let him be as loud as he wanted.

What they were meant to do here was entirely different.  When their baby grew into an adult someday (he’d be “the single greatest astronaut ever”, if Alfred had his way), there would only be two people in the entire world able to say that they were there for the day he was born.  The birth had to be the opposite of the act that had preceded it: quiet, private.  Meaningful.

“It just has to have a cover.” Alfred, ever the alpha and ever unable to read Arthur’s mind, stared dumbly back at him.  “Just do it!”

They had paid their deposit on the hospital room, and all that was left was the wait.  Alfred went straight from work to home (with a brief pitstop at the Chinese place for takeout), and then with Arthur straight to the hospital.  The baby was showing no signs of evicting himself any time soon, but as with all things Arthur was worried -- and so in lieu of an actual child to check in on every five minutes, they instead went to check on their nest in the birthing wing of the hospital every night.

On his knees and perilously stretched out, Arthur fussed over the edges of the nest and, again, folded a thick comforter down on itself.  Alfred rolled his eyes.  “Are you gonna kiss it goodnight before we go?”

“I’ve no time for your attitude right now.”

“Wouldn’t want the nest to feel neglected.” Before Arthur could collect and release his rage, an omega nurse graciously shook his head at Alfred’s direction to warn him.

“If you decide to keep up that attitude --” A grunt, he was struggling to stand, “I might just decide to lock you out of my nest when the time comes to use it.” Stomp.  Stomp.  How was he supposed to know if his mate actually meant to stomp or was just swollen with baby weight? “Do you understand?”

… Someone standing squarely half a head shorter than him might not have had much of a chance to intimidate Alfred, if they weren’t bursting with hormones and the intense desire to strangle him.  He put his hands up in surrender.  “Loud and clear.  Let’s get you into some jammies and take out, okay?”

The nurse waved goodbye and locked the door to their room behind them.  “And _another_ thing…”

It wasn’t until Arthur had been settled into his seat and strapped (as comfortably as he could be) in that he felt a stirring in his body -- indigestion? Cramps?

A dropping sensation.

And the first thing Arthur thought as parenthood began impending swiftly on him was “oh _for fuck’s sake_ ”.

The nurses were not as urgent as Arthur imagined them to be.  More urgent than the need to get into his nest and get settled in was the need to be left alone, and as he was ushered into a wheelchair without a word being spoken to him, Arthur realized that maybe, just maybe, they knew that.

Alfred sprinted up, overnight bags in hand, and with each under his armpits he took control of his mate’s wheelchair and sped him off, blabbing at a solid 100 miles per hour.  “How are you? Does it hurt? Tell me if it hurts.  I’ll get you a pill so fast it’ll make your head spin, babe.  Or do they do that needle thing? They can do that now, I’ll make ‘em do it now.  Do you feel the head yet? When do you feel it?”

“Shut up,” Arthur seethed.

“Hey, if we talk it’ll all go by faster right? Isn’t that the same with everything? Talk to me.  What’s going on?”

“I’m in labor and I’m ready to _kill_ you,”

“Just like that.  Great!”

Arthur practically leaped out of the wheelchair and into his nest.  Sweet, _sweet_ nest, the only thing in the entire sterile, white hospital that smelled and felt like home.  It felt even more like home when Alfred nearly tackled him over and sat Indian-style next to him; the nurses shuffled out without a word, sensing that Arthur’s fury was growing by the moment.

Deep inhale.  Deep exhale.  In all fairness Arthur was trying to focus on the whooshing sound of his breathing and not how he was grinding his teeth, but Alfred was making it impossible.  A bit of hair was hanging in front of Arthur’s closed eyes -- the Hollywood hero that he was, Alfred moved to brush those bangs delicately out of his heroine’s face.

Instead he got his finger bitten.

“OW! Dude, what the hell?”

Appropriating the mother figure he would soon inhabit, Arthur looked at him with his mouth frozen in a stern frown.  “If you’ll recall, I told you that I would kick you out if you kept this up.”

“Yeah, that was a pretty funny joke actually.  One of your best ones.”

There was danger in his eyes.  Alfred outwardly cringed. “If you think I’m joking, continue on with your blathering.  You’ll be surprised.”

“Right.  Message received.”

Arthur nodded, and moved to unbutton his shirt.  When he first bought it, at that far-off stage when he’d only had his foot in the door of his first trimester, he’d thought, “My god, isn’t this extreme? It looks like some poor shirt got stuck in a taffy puller.” In the past two weeks, it was the only one he owned that still fit, and he was grateful for his own foresight -- in part because nobody else had enough he could be grateful for.  Alfred scooted cautiously closer and tugged at the sleeves of it, sliding it off his mate’s shoulders.

“You look gorgeous, you know.”

“Mm.” The no-talking rule was still instated, even for compliments.

Trousers off.  No knickers fit him any more and so he’d been going commando for at least two months.  Nude and finally utterly _comfortable_ , Arthur tucked himself into the best spot (by the window, where a little moonlight leaked through the sheet) and waited for Alfred to finish stripping and join him.

No more words were needed.  Just the reassuring kisses Alfred offered every time Arthur grimaced.

\--

With every passing hour, the doctor’s routine check-ins became more and more unwelcome.  By the fourth hour, the mere sight of her cheery, twenty-something face had Arthur ready to growl from his comfortable spot in the nest.

She was an alpha, and for that reason _alone_ he wanted her nowhere near.  Nevermind the constantly poking doctor bit. “I need to check your dilation now.”

“Piss off.”

“This is a lovely nest, you know,” Her voice was low and soothing.  Arthur openly recoiled.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”

The doctor shrugged and took her seat on the tile floor, again looking over his nest with fascination.  “You’ve picked a beautiful topcover.  My mate would love it.”

“Alfred didn’t even notice,”

“Alphas never notice important things like that, do we?” A sympathetic eyebrow raise was met with a roll of the eyes, and, grumbling, Arthur scooted sideways to let her through.

It was the to sound of latex gloves being snapped on and rolled up that Arthur closed his eyes and lost consciousness.  



End file.
